


Armies Moving Close

by we_dreamerz



Series: Loki & Natasha: Mixed Tape v1 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Blood, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Frigga (Marvel) Knows All, Hurt/Comfort, Loki has a plan, Not Canon Compliant, Porn With Plot, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Smut, Songfic, not so slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-08-18 17:14:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16521284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/we_dreamerz/pseuds/we_dreamerz
Summary: Loki shows up at Natasha's door bloody and broken after the events on Svartleheim. Thor thinks he's dead. He very nearly stayed that way. But Loki has been charged with a glorious purpose and he has a plan.Songfic Inspired By:1. Pray Your Gods by Toad the Wet Sprocket | 2. Warriors: by Imagine Dragons | 3. Far Too Young To Die and Casual Affair by Panic! At the Disco | 4. Under the Influence by Elle King | 5. Wherever I Go by One RepublicPlaylist on Spotify





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read, left kudos and comments. I really appreciate it. And I hope you're enjoying it so far.
> 
> I'd also like to give special thanks to my Beta Goddesses: LokiismyfavouriteAvenger and Dawn

There had been elves in London - real, live elves. What precisely did it say about her life that elves were not, in the fact, the weirdest shit she'd seen that day? So yes, she knew all about the attack. S.H.I.E.L.D had been all over it until the immortals had taken the fight off-world.

When someone rang her doorbell at an ungodly hour of the night, just as she was getting out of the shower, she had been expecting to see Clint’s crooked smile through the peephole. He sometimes stayed on her couch when he couldn’t sleep. Instead, she saw Loki, leaning heavily against the wall, tattered leathers caked with blood.

_What the fuck?_

She grabbed the Glock in the foyer table, secured her towel, and then returned to her place at the spyglass. The last time she had seen Loki, Thor was carting him to Asgard to serve time for his crimes.

_Why was I not briefed on this development?_

He murmured something so low she couldn’t understand his words. There was no use pretending she was wasn't there. He had likely heard everything.

“What brings you by, Loki?” she said through the door when she was sure she could trust her voice. “I thought you had cushy new digs in Odin's basement.”

“I died,” he said a little louder but not by much.

“And you decided to haunt me instead of Thor? That doesn’t seem fair.”

He had no answering grin or pithy quip to her barb. He only met her gaze through the peephole. Skin palled, dark circles, his eyes, usually so alive with mischief were completely devoid of their usual spark. He certainly looked like hell. But Loki was clearly alive. This had to one of his tricks, another lie.

_How many times had he faked his death?_

Tears gathered and spilled down his gaunt cheeks. There was no hint of guile or treachery, no sign of the power-hungry demagogue who had tried to build a throne on the ashes of New York City. Natasha had spent her youth learning every possible way to break a man and the better part of her adulthood putting practice to her training. She knew the look of a broken man. Loki may not be dead. But something had happened to shake his very foundation.

She opened the door and Loki fell to his knees before her. She couldn’t tell whether he was trying to prove a point, or he had simply lost the energy to stand. Either way, there he was.

“Agent Romanoff, I swear to you. This is no trick.” His voice was so raw. “I fell in battle with the dark elves and awoke sometime later, alone, my wounds closing, and paralyzed by pain. “My Mother. My mother died in the attack on Asgard because I…because of me.” Loki grimaced and wailed, a noise she recognized instantly deep down in her soul - anguish, shame and guilt-riddled pain. He closed his chameleon blue eyes. Fat tears pressed between his lashes, cleared ruddy paths through the dirt and blood that crusted his face.

He shuddered, drew a breath before he continued. “But as I lay there in the dust, she called my name.”

“Oh Loki,” she whispered without meaning to. She expected a venomous diatribe about how he did not need the pity of worthless mortal. But it never came. He just lowered his head and sobbed.

_He had killed so many that day in New York._

But they had discussed her ledger before.

_“It's GUSHING red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything?”_

Now there he was, on his knees, asking for her compassion.

_Why her?_

But was it any wonder? Natasha understood the weight he carried better than anyone. Loki was intelligent, a genius, and a master strategist. But she had gained his begrudging respect by surprising him, beating him at his own game.

“Come here,” she said, crouching down, voice calm and sure. She’d made up her mind. Loki was broken. And she would put him back together again. Shaken at the sight of him, the stench of smoke and ash, the screams as the people fled still so fresh in her memory - she reached out to him.

Startled, he narrowed his eyes and searched her gaze. She gripped the weapon behind her back, waited with her other hand extended, acutely aware that she was still in just her damp towel. When Loki finally found whatever he had been looking for, he took her hand, turned it over in his own and collapsed into her arms.

She held him on the cold linoleum as he told his story in stops and starts - Thor breaking him out of prison, meeting Jane Foster, their trip to Svartalfheim to fight the dark elves. She moved them to the couch, shoving the Glock between the cushions, and cradled his head in her lap. She ignored the blood and ichor that stained his armor.

_I need a new couch anyway. Now I can bill it to S.H.I.E.L.D._

“I died saving Thor,” he muttered into her thigh, almost as though he couldn't believe it. A small smile chased the desolate expression from his face for just a moment until fresh, silent tears gathered in his unfocused gaze.

Natasha pushed a stray curl from his forehead but remained silent. He would say what he needed to say in his own time. He traced mindless, patterns on her bare knee, leaving streaks of faded red dirt on her skin. Finally, he drew a breath and told her everything he could remember.

“It was over so quickly,” he said softly and for a moment she thought he meant his own death. But no.

“I could smell her perfume, see her face, feel the fine linen of her robe. She...she said she loved me, that she didn’t...blame me for what had happened. “Then she said it wasn't my time.”  
He frowned and shook his head. “She said everything is about to change. And if Asgard is to survive, I must...make peace with the past, lay my demons to rest.”

“That sounds like a reasonable Mom thing to say,” she said, softly stroking his hair.

Loki shook his head. “Agent Romanoff, you don’t understand.” Loki met her gaze. “Ragnarok,” he hissed.

Natasha’s skin prickled.

_Apocalypse._

“Mother left instructions. But I don’t...I can’t…they will never understand.”

_This can't be good._

“Tell me what she said, Loki,” Natasha said with an air of command to which he seemed to respond.

Loki breathed and nodded. “It’s inevitable. Ragnarok is coming. Though I do not know how. We cannot prevent it. She made that quite clear. We can only ensure all the pieces are placed just so. It’s the only way to reduce its impact.” He paused, closed his eyes.

He smiled bitterly.

“And It seems the trickster has a role to play, Agent Romanoff. And Thor may never forgive me for it.”

Natasha listened as he laid out the plan and understanding dawned. For the sake of Asgard, for the sake of the nine realms, her own included, Loki must take the throne of Asgard.

As the sun crept above the horizon, she led him to the bathroom. She ran a bath, adjusted the taps to something that seemed comfortable. He stood, larger than life and utterly defeated in her tiny bathroom. Out of place, lost.

Without hesitation, she dropped her towel, bared her own body as she tenderly stripped him of his armor. He averted his red-rimmed gaze, focused intently on the tile floor as she worked.  
His chest had been a bloody mess, but the wound had closed, crusted over and was healing. Natasha touched the puckered skin gently, confirming what she already knew. It was no illusion. Loki was telling the truth.

He allowed her to lead him into the large garden tub, wash his body, and care for the wound. He shivered, and at first, she thought he was in pain but realized it must be something different.

“Are you cold?” she asked softly.

He gave her the barest of nods.

“You need to tell me what you need, Loki,” she said. “Don’t suffer in silence when all you need to do is speak up and tell me what you need.”

She drained the cold water and replaced it with hot until it almost overflowed. He sank down into the warmth and closed his eyes. She stroked his wet hair from his face and smiled when he leaned into her touch.

He’s so beautiful like this without the smirk and baleful eyes.

Without thinking, she traced the hard line of his jaw, ran her thumb over the curve of his bottom lip. She looked up to meet his wary gaze.

“Why are you helping me, Agent Romanoff?” he said.

“Why did you come to me for help?” she countered.

Loki pressed a tired smile between his lips and leaned back against the bathtub, seemingly content with her answer.


	2. My Throne Above

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha smells something strange and Loki arranges all of his pieces on the board.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Warriors by Imagine Dragons
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o3W5ngVTtRE

Something was wrong.

Instantly awake, Natasha listened from the darkness of her bedroom. She frowned and breathed deeply.

_Coffee?_

She sat up, stared at the empty space in the bed beside her.

_Loki._

She'd taken him into her bed and he'd fallen, exhausted, into the sheets like a child after a long day at an amusement park.

He'd rolled to his side in the midmorning sun and twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. He breathed her in and smiled, sleep drunk and warm from the bath.

“You smell like the kitchens on Asgard,” he’d breathed her in, murmured into her hair. “Sweet...like vanilla and cinnamon.”

She lay awake for hours afterward listening to him breath, skin pebbled with unexpected desire, mind spinning.

_This is too much._

Now, she threw back the covers and grabbed her robe from the vanity chair. The kitchen was as empty as her bed. Except on the counter, Loki had left her a plate piled with a fluffy omelet and links of sausage. The coffee pot was just now hissing with it's final few drops.

Beside the plate was a small green stone on a black leather cord and a folded slip of paper on which her name was scrawled in a flawless black script. She stared at the items a few moments before picking up the note.

**Agent Romanoff,**

**I have inadequate words of thanks for the kindness you showed me. But I thank you nonetheless. I have entrusted you with my secrets. I know that you can keep them. But at the same time, I do so with the knowledge that should it become necessary, you will share them with the right people. I would expect nothing less. I return to Asgard now as I have been charged. And I will do what it takes to ensure the safety of our realms. Be assured I will keep you informed. Remain vigilant, Agent Romanoff. And if you have need of me, simply hold this pendant in your hand and say my name with intent. I will come to your aid with haste if I am able.**

**Enjoy Your Breakfast (Dinner?)  
Loki**

**P.S. I took the liberty of warding your living quarters. Your security is woefully inadequate. The stone will glow and vibrate should the warding be disturbed by anyone without your express permission to enter.**

**P.P.S. You will need more shampoo.**

 

“Huh,” she said, frowning. She padded to the bathroom and pulled back the shower curtain, searching. Her shampoo was gone.

“Damn it, Loki. That was a full bottle!” She spoke to the ceiling and then growled at herself. With a huff she returned to the kitchen, frowned at the plate. The food was still warm.

She decided to forgive him when she took her first bite.

It was delicious.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

“What the hell, Nat? Are you okay?”

Clint gaped at the bloodstained couch and turned to check her over.

She slapped away his hands.

“I'm fine. I'm fine,” she said. “I just haven't had time to replace the couch.”

It had been two days since Loki appeared on her doorstep. She'd cleaned up the worst of the mess but her couch was a lost cause.

“But whose blood is that?”

“Not mine,” she said firmly.

Clint frowned. “So where am I supposed to sleep?”

“Jesus, I am not running a home for wayward Superheroes. How about your own bed?” she snapped.

Clint dropped into a chair and eyed her suspiciously. “What's going on?”

Natasha sighed. She had intended to let Clint in on the mission. But now she wasn't so sure. Loki had trusted her. Whether it was out of necessity or intention, he'd chosen her. He had also given her leave to tell someone if needed. But as far as she could see, the apocalypse hadn't yet begun. So why worry everyone now? Stay vigilant, he'd said. So that's what she would do.  
“I can't tell you what or who or why,” she said curling into the opposite chair. “But I have inside Intel. I'm working a lead. And I need you to keep your eyes open. If you see anything out of the ordinary, contact me immediately,” she said.

Clint stared her down a moment, mouth twisting as he considered her words. “You mean like elves in London and fucking metal monsters bleeding out of a hole in the sky?” he said flatly.

“Exactly,” she said with a wry smile. 

“Does this have anything to do with your couch?” he asked.

Natasha shrugged. “Are you hungry?” she asked. “We could order in? Binge some Thrones?”

“You're changing the subject.”

“I am.”

Clint huffed indignantly. “Fine but this time we’re getting pepperoni pizza. None of those green sprouty things.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“She keeps your secret,” Heimdall intoned from his place at the pedestal. “But she has placed the Hawk on alert.”

Loki, clad in the aspect of Odin nodded. The Widow was wise to do so. Barton was smart. And he would be another set of eyes on the board.

“And you, Gatekeeper?”

Heimdall was silent and still, staring out into the void.

Just when Loki wondered if he had made the right choice in conspiring with Heimdall, he answered.

“We have not often seen eye to eye, Loki Liesmith. But in this, we are agreed. Frigga's warning should not go unheeded.” He spared Loki a glance, eyed Gungnir, Odin's spear.

Loki wondered whether Heimdall saw Odin or himself but didn't ask.

“I will watch over the All-Father,” Heimdall continued. “And alert you should I see anything of which we should be concerned.”

Loki nodded and thought of Ms. Romanoff. She had been everything he had expected and more. It was the more he wondered at now.

He had expected her calm demeanor, her ability to assess the situation and gauge his truth. He had not expected her kindness. He had not expected to break down under the weight of her gaze. She had not judged him. Not had given him pity or blame. Natasha Romanoff, spy, an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D, had shown him compassion. She'd shared her bath and bed, held him at his most vulnerable moment and never once made him feel less for it.

“I will watch over the Widow as well,” Heimdall said softly.

Loki nodded briskly and turned for the palace. The Gatekeeper saw too much sometimes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Loki shed Odin's aspect as Thor strode from the throne room. He'd been prepared for a fight. He'd crafted an argument worthy of the old man himself.

Frigga had been clear.

“Thor must not remain in Asgard. He is to return to earth. He must continue his pursuits with the Avengers.”

But Thor didn't want the crown, not yet. He had turned it down in favor of his lady. Loki could not have orchestrated a better outcome himself.

Alone in the hall, Loki sat back on the throne, grasping Gungnir a little too tightly. He smiled for a moment, marveling at the ironic poetry of it all. The truth? He wanted the throne no more than Thor. Not anymore. 

He couldn’t even pinpoint the moment it ceased to be a priority. So many moments since his desperate decision to end his own life.

Letting go of the spear round which his fingers were now curled.

The bite of a Chitauri whip at his back.

That voice whispering, infiltrating his mind and using his despair and rage as fuel for his own agenda.

Lying on his back, broken but finally clear-headed, free of the whispers - Hulk smashed into the floor of Stark Tower.

Natasha’s gaze, so observant. His mother’s face as he entered the hall in chains.

Grief, death, blood, and Thor’s eyes as they looked down upon him. Was that finally understanding in their blue depths?

Natasha - her body bared in communion with his pain.

Choose one; choose them all. There were so many more moments to savor. And he meant to take each one.


	3. While The Crown Hangs Heavy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha dispatches an intruder. Loki has an unexpected evening.
> 
> Inspired By: Far Too Young To Die and Casual Affair by: Panic! At the Disco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much Love to my Beta Goddesses: LokiismyfavouriteAvenger and Dawn

Another day, another briefing. Natasha leaned into the conference table, arms crossed, mind wandering as Steve filled Fury in on their latest Hydra intelligence.

She watched Steve speak, but all of his words faded into background noise. She idly stroked the leather cord around her neck. The small stone, jade she thought but couldn't be sure, hung between her breasts, hidden beneath her catsuit. She had no idea what possessed her to wear it. Or even better why she felt compelled to hide it. It was pretty. And it wasn't like Loki had stamped it with a big gold L. But, her co-workers were nothing if not observant...and nosey.

Thor was present, face stony with grief. He’d come back to the team two weeks after Loki's visit, hyper-focused and ready to work. Clint and Bruce rounded out the meeting. Tony was away on business.

Natasha watched Thor. He fidgeted, dwarfed the leather office chair as he swung it back and forth. He bunched his fists as though longing to punch someone. She could relate.

She knew why Loki had lied to him. But that didn't make the lie any easier to help perpetuate. She would of course. But, it wasn't easy to see your friend hurt and not be able to help when you had all the answers. So instead, she baked. So far, she'd made cookies, a cake, and two batches of brownies for Thor in an attempt to assuage her guilt. But all the guilt brownies in the world wouldn't bring Loki back to life for him.

Thor ate it all; hugged and thanked her for her kindness. If he only knew. She realized one day he was going to find out about his brother's trickery and the part she had played. They would probably square up.

_Maybe if I bake him enough guilt cookies, he’ll be too slow to fight._

Vaguely she heard someone say her name. She focused on Fury, eyebrow raised as though she hadn't understood the question. “Sir?”

“Agent, would you care to tell me why your shirt is glowing?”

Nick Fury glared at Natasha from across the conference table.

“Hm?” she said calmly and looked down. The stone Loki had given her gently vibrated and glowed faintly from under her suit. It took her a moment before she remembered what that meant.

_Shit. Someone’s tripped Loki’s alarm._

“Oh, just some new jewelry sir,” she said calmly and met his gaze. “I must have forgotten to take it off when I suited up.”

_I have to get out of here._

Fury frowned.

_Or is that his usual face? It's hard to tell the difference._

She stared back, casual.

_Nothing to see here, Director._

“Okay then. Meeting adjourned. Rogers, have that file on my desk in an hour.”

Natasha made a beeline for the door. 

“Nat,” Bruce called as she stepped over the threshold. She kept walking. He fell into stride beside her and flashed an awkward smile.

“Hey, are you busy? I'm done here for the night and I thought we could catch a movie.”

“Sorry, Bruce. I have a thing.”

“Oh, okay, no problem. I'll see if Steve has plans.” He looked behind to see whether they were alone and then lowered his voice. “I will never get tired of taking him to R Rated movies and watching him get uncomfortable.”

“Have fun and take a video if he starts one of his Father Cap speeches,” she said with a smiled and turned toward the car park. Father Cap speeches were the best. He'd get all indignant about the casual way “people nowadays” regarded sex.

Natasha kept a small apartment far enough away from the tower and the S.H.I.E.L.D offices to give her a place to relax when she wasn’t working. Clint was the only Avenger who knew where it was. She wasn't naive enough to think Fury didn't know exactly where to find her. But for the most part, it had been a little haven for her, a place where, even for a little while, she could feel normal.  
Until Loki had shown up.

Now someone had broken in. She really could have used some backup. But how was she going to explain that the little glowing rock around her neck was her new high tech alarm system?

She entered from the back, scaled the fire escape and slipped in through the skylight. She landed on the kitchen floor with a light slap of leather and paused, listening, gun drawn. Soft music came from her living room.

_Smooth jazz?_

She rose from a crouch and padded softly to the doorway to get a look at what the hell was going on.

She peeked around the corner and froze, utterly speechless. Loki was curled up on her sofa, a new one, the very same one she’d been meaning to buy, in a lovely shade that matched Loki's eyes instead of the blue she’d picked out. He was covered with a creamy white fur and sipped something red from one of her crystal wine glasses.

“Took you long enough,” he said and turned a page in the book he was reading. “In the event this had been an actual emergency, you would have been too late.”

Loki looked up from his book, conjured another glass of wine for her and smiled kindly at her.

“Please sit, you're blocking the light.”

Natasha just could not find the words to respond. So, she did as he asked and dropped into one of the new matching armchairs.

“I was going to get the blue one,” she said.

Loki eyed the couch. “I think the green suits the room.”

That's when she realized that he'd also switched out the throw pillows and replaced the decorative silk flower arrangement in the corner with a large fountain, dotted with mossy stones in gleaming copper basins.

Natasha took the wine he’d conjured and sniffed it before taking a sip. Flavor burst on her tongue. It was like grapes but different, grapes and raspberries pressed with a hint of apple? She’d never tasted anything like it before.

“Odin’s private vintage,” Loki said with a genuine smile that curved into a wicked grin. “It’s good to be king.”

“Why are you here, Loki?” Natasha asked, took another sip of wine and closed her eyes as a brilliant, golden warmth spread out from her belly and through her limbs.

“I owed you a new sofa,” he said. “I bled all over that previous tragedy.”

“And you stuck around to groove to some smooth jazz and read a book? How’s Asgard?”

Loki shrugged. “It is as it always was.”

_Vague. He’s hiding something._

Loki pulled the fur a bit closer, rubbed his fingers through the strands. He was dressed in a white linen tunic, laces open at the neck, revealing a light tease of chest hair. He’d ditched the slicked back, hairband look for soft curls that just brushed his neck. She’d never seen him so casual, relaxed.

She rose and crossed the room, headed for her bedroom. As she passed Loki, she stroked his hair. “My shampoo suits you,” she said, smirking when he leaned into her touch. “I’ll be right back.”

She stripped out of her suit and quickly changed into a soft, black cotton tank and grey lounge pants that hung low on her hips. If he could lounge casually in her living room, she sure as hell wasn’t going to sit there in her tight catsuit while she tried to figure him out.

Back in the living room, she found Loki standing before the window, watching the sunset, pale skin painted in shades of purple and orange. She couldn’t read his expression.

“It’s in moments such as these that I am grateful your fair city was not destroyed,” he said softly, pressed his fingers to the glass.

“Thor thinks that wasn’t you,” Natasha said, standing beside him to stare out at the water colored cityscape.

She felt him shrug.

“Oh, it was me; do not fool yourself into thinking otherwise,” Loki said. “Yes, Agent Romanoff, my strings were pulled quite roughly. But I put myself it the position of allowing that to happen. I allowed all of my impotent rage and self-loathing to be turned against your planet. For that, I am truly sorry.”

“Who was pulling your strings?”

Loki was silent for a long time. It couldn't be easy for him to admit these things. But then he’d come to her when he’d been most vulnerable, allowed her to see him completely broken. She waited patiently, giving him time. 

As the sun slipped below the horizon and shadows crept from the corners, Loki sighed and seemed to decide something.

“His name is Thanos, he said finally. “I do not think we have seen the last of him; though in truth I have no proof, no inside intel your network of spies might use. I have only my gut and some knowledge about the items he seeks.”

“But Tony blew them up, sent the nuke into the wormhole.”

Loki turned to her finally, and she to him, meeting his worried gaze. “He blew up the Chitauri who waited at the wormhole, Agent Romanoff. I have no doubt that the Mad Titan was as far away from that army as he could get. The Chitauri are the least of our worries. It has always been their puppet master that we should fear.”

“Do you think this has something to do with your mother’s warning?”

Loki shook his head. “Perhaps. But I believe there’s something more,” he said, pushing a stray lock of hair from her face, twirling it between his fingers. “But I am no closer to an answer than when we last spoke. I swear to you, when I have information on which we can rely, I will share it.”

And she believed him. Loki had been nothing but forthright since he’d returned from the dead. He was nothing like the cruel, taunting monster behind the glass. The Loki in front of her seemed so different. When she looked into his eyes she felt his concern. She was aware of his body in ways she hadn’t been and when he touched her, she couldn’t deny the warmth that pooled in her belly. 

Natasha licked her lips. Loki’s gaze dipped to watch, and a thrill of arousal chased up her spine. There was no use lying to herself. She wanted him. But he’d never shown any real interest in pursuing her. Even alone, naked in her bathtub he’d been a perfect gentleman.

She reached for the laces at his neck, parted the loose fabric. There was no sign of his wounds, not even a scar. She touched his chest, traced the line of his collarbone and up his neck then curled her fingers through his hair.

His hands went to her waist, caressed the bare skin of her hips. When he met her gaze, it was through lust heavy eyes. She smiled, pleased with his reaction.

_A crack in his facade._

“I did not come here for this, Agent Romanoff.”

“So?” she said and raised an eyebrow, tipped her face up. He was impossibly tall, but he bent to her when she tugged him toward her, lips on her temple, breathing her in.

“Then why are you here?”

“I was, I was bored,” he admitted finally. “You are quite literally one of the only people in the nine realms who know I exist. I wished only to speak with you. I would hate for you to think…” 

“I don’t.”

He took a shuddering breath. “Then why do you offer yourself so?”

“I don’t.”

He pulled back, puzzled.

She smiled. “I don’t mean to offer, Loki. I mean to take.”

His lips parted in surprise. She savored his look for just a moment before taking his mouth. He opened so willingly, sucking her tongue with a hungry groan that sent sparks of need through her body, between her thighs. She maneuvered him back toward the sofa, pushed him down into the waiting warmth of his fur. 

“Agent--”

“Natasha,” she said and climbed into his lap, straddled his powerful thighs. “You may call me Natasha.

“Natasha,” Loki breathed her name like air.

She reclaimed his mouth, sucked his bottom lip between her teeth, biting down gently until he moaned. Loki pressed his hips forward in a needy little thrust.  
So hard already.

“Take all that you desire,” he whispered into her neck. “I am yours to command.”

She pulled back. Her turn to be surprised now. She took his chin in her hand and forced him to meet her gaze. His eyes were blown open, dark with lust. 

He grinned. “What are you waiting for?”

With a little smirk she reached between them, leaned back so that she could reach the ties of his leathers.

“I could do away with all restrictions in the blink of an eye.”

“I like to unwrap my presents slowly,” she said.

“Mmm, well then, by all means, do not let me stop you.”

She decided right then and there that Asgardian clothes were the worst. But she got through it and with a little growl of triumph, she set him free.

Natasha enjoyed sex, a fact of which she was unabashedly unashamed. Men, women, it didn't matter -- parts were parts. But Loki, Loki was impressive -- long and thick with an elegant upward curve at the tip, just right to rub all those places ordinary men just could not reach.

 _A god indeed._

She stroked him slowly, hummed in appreciation as he hardened further before dipping down to palm his heavy sack. He spread his legs wider and groaned as she squeezed his shaft just a little.

Natasha looked up and found him watching her face with the most enigmatic of expressions -- amusement, amazement, lust. He reached for her face, ran his thumb across her bottom lip. She darted her tongue out to taste him and thrilled at his intake of breath.

“Allow me, Your Highness,” she mocked just a little bit, smiled when his lips quirked. She slid her shirt over her head and tossed it aside.

“Exquisite,” Loki breathed and thumbed her nipples. Men were often sloppy with breast play, too hard, squeezing them like stress balls. Loki plucked and palmed her flesh until the rolling ache inside her bloomed into a little moan. 

Loki responded with a pleased little smile and bent to suck one nipple between his lips. Natasha pulled in a breath, continued her light, barely-there caresses and watched him through hooded eyes.

Natasha had spent her entire life reading marks. She had mastered the art of knowing exactly what her lovers needed. Pleasure, pain, domination, and humiliation, she had delivered them all. She thought at first that Loki had come to her for a firm hand. But now that she had him beneath her, she thought it might be the exact opposite.

Loki craved her favor, her approval. He exulted in each moan and sigh of pleasure he drew from her lips. He preened when she touched him gently, sank into each caress like a touch-starved child. He’d said he was bored; but she thought it might go deeper than that.

She knew Loki's story, as told by Thor. But what had truly brought him to that moment on the Bifrost? What made him let go? After a long lifetime of royal pampering, wanting for nothing, what had brought a man as strong-willed as Loki to feel so unloved, so unworthy where falling into the void was the only way that scenario could have played out? No, Loki wasn't there to be dominated, humiliated or hurt. Loki just wanted to be...Loki. He wanted to be accepted.

Natasha cupped his face. He looked so young without the sneer he wore like armor. She kissed him softly on the mouth, taking her time to savor his need, the way his fingers gripped her thighs before she pressed deeper. She sucked his tongue, gave him hers. He let her lead, never taking or begging for more than she was ready to give. But he accepted everything she gave him with a passion that weakened her knees.

She took his hand, caressed and kissed his palm. Holding his gaze, she took his middle finger between her lips, flicked her tongue across its tip. He watched, enraptured as she sucked it down to the third knuckle then pulled off with a pop. She liked the way he shivered, bit his bottom lip.

“I think you should get rid of these,” Natasha said looking down at their clothes.

With a little smile and a flick of his other hand, they were both bare. He drank her in this time, eyed each curve and hollow until her nipples tightened in anticipation of his next move. He ran his hands up her thighs and to her ass, thumbs gently teasing the sensitive skin where hip met thigh. Then she gasped, as with a growl, he gripped her ass and pulled her to him.

“I can smell you,” he whispered, his breath a hot caress on her neck. She moaned when he rocked his hips, his hard length slipped between her slick folds to nudge her clit.

He chuckled into her neck, sucked open-mouthed kisses behind her ear. 

“I can feel the wet heat of you against my cock,” he said with another little thrust. “If you intend to have me, do please continue before I lose the modicum of control to which I am trying desperately to hold.”

His voice was almost enough to end her sweet torture. But she pressed on. Maybe she was pushing, seeing just how far he was willing to let her tease. But she was way past playing games.

She took his mouth, canted her hips and with a needy little moan and took his cock as well. He slid in so sweetly, filled her so fully.

“Loki,” she breathed.

He stilled for a moment.

_Fuck._

“Say that again,” he asked, voice ragged.

_Ah._

She held his gaze, let him see the want I'm her eyes.

“Loki,” she whispered, leaned back to rest her hands on his knees. She let her thighs fall open so he could watch as she began to move, slowly at first then with greater finesse until she found her rhythm.

Loki breathed out, parted his lips as he watched.

“So wet,” he said, voice low and smooth as though she might stop.

“Loki, touch me,” Natasha gasped. “Rub my clit while I fuck myself on your cock.”

Loki groaned and reached for her, thumb moving sweet little circles as she took him harder. He watched her face, eyes bright with need. She couldn't look away from him.

“I want you to come inside me,” she groaned. “It’s safe. But only when I tell you to.”  
He nodded, bit his lip. He was so close she could feel the tremor at the base of his cock, but she knew he would do exactly as she asked.

“Take your pleasure, Natasha,” the words rolled off his tongue in broken gasps. “And command mine as you see fit.” 

The cauldron of bubbling need rose inside her, broke in waves that threatened to take her under. She trembled as she came, calling his name with each thrust of her hips.

With one hand at her core and one gripping her hip, he worked her clit through each wave of her pleasure, changing the pressure and speed as though reading her mind.

She wanted him there with her, floating, flying.

“Now,” she groaned and took him to the hilt. “Come for me, Loki.”

His face, lost in the pleasure of her body as he finally let go had her shaking, coming again as he thrust up into her, gathered her to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, reveling in the pulse of his release, the decadent warmth of his come.

He kissed her neck, murmured her name as he pumped his hips, slowly now as they caught their breath. She caressed his face, took her time pressing kisses along his shoulders and neck. He made a noise that sounded so much like a purr she couldn't help but smile.

She expected things to get awkward. But they didn't. He helped her from his lap, groaning and just a little transfixed as his come slid from her body and down his softening shaft.

“By the nine, you are exquisite,” he murmured. Then with a wicked grin, Loki stood and lifted her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. 

She squealed like a drunk sorority girl until she realized they were headed to the bathroom.

“You are a very dirty girl,” he chuckled and put her gently in the shower after turning the taps to something bearable. He met her gaze with an upturned brow. Mischief sparkled there, and she could not help the laughter that bubbled up in her chest. “I intend to clean you up so that I might soil you again.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha heard someone knock on the door vaguely, as though from the end of a long tunnel. 

She groaned.

“I can't move,” she murmured to Loki who was sprawled on his back, taking up most of her Queen bed.

“Good,” he said. “It is as I intended.”

“Someone is at the door.”

“The Hawk,” he said, though he hadn't moved.

Natasha's eyes flew open. “Clint?”

Loki yawned and stretched his body before rolling to his side, pulling her comforter up over his shoulder.

_Loki was a cat in a past life._

“Ignore him. He is like a puppy, he will return later, I am certain.”

Natasha sighed. “I can’t--”

Loki reached for her, pulled her against his body.

“You can,” he said, caressing her hip, fingers dipping to splay across her belly. “If it were an emergency, you would be called, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then the Hawk can wait until you can walk once more.”

She heard what he could not say. 

_Indulge me. Stay here with me just a little longer._

Loki was lonely. She could understand that better than most. So she ignored the door and relaxed into his touch.

They were silent for a long time. Natasha drifted, not thinking, just enjoying the feel of his fingers on her skin, the rise and fall of his chest against her back.

“Thank you, Natasha,” Loki whispered into her hair.

She smiled. “Next time just text me. No need to trip the alarm.”

Loki chuckled and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

“Noted. But I make no promises.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the love on this fic. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	4. Let It Take My Last Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha has a revelation and Loki has never been very patient.
> 
>  
> 
> Inspired By: Under the Influence by Elle King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, much love to my beta goddesses: LokiismyfavouriteAvenger & Dawn. <3

[](https://imgur.com/pivrC2Y)

 

Loki’s mouth on her cunt in the dressing room at Macy’s.

In line at Starbucks - invisible to everyone but her, his long, dexterous fingers sliding up her thigh, pressing on her mound, sliding between her wet folds, and pushing inside. 

The honeyed, dirty roll of her name from his tongue.

Loki seems to be everywhere now, popping up in the strangest of places. Natasha just can’t get enough.

It’s Pavlovian really. She could have been anywhere in the world, kicking ass, minding her own business, or someone else’s. But when her phone made that noise - his noise, she can’t help the way her body responds. God knows she’d tried.

After that night, their first night, she’d spent the following week chastising herself.

_How?_

_Why?_

_You fucked him without a condom. You wanted him, raw, inside you, skin to skin. You demanded it._ )

She swore to herself the next time would be different. She’d remain objective. She’d be his friend and work together to, in Loki’s words, ensure the safety of the realms. That little piece of fiction had lasted all of fifteen minutes when Loki had shown up in her bed wearing the sexiest set of tits Natasha has ever had the pleasure of sucking.

Loki was a shapeshifter. He could clone himself. He was insatiable and loved nothing more than to get her off in whatever way she needed.

In the six months that Loki had been in her life, Natasha had come more often than she had in the last year. It was like someone had taken every single one of Natasha’s dirty, sexual fantasies and wrapped them with a very sexy, occasionally over-dramatic bow. But the most surprising thing? She liked him. He was funny, intelligent, well read and always had something interesting to say.

She was without a doubt, completely, 100% compromised in the most delicious, mind-bending, knee shaking, way. And there was no way in hell she could allow anyone, including S.H.I.E.L.D, Thor or even, God forbid, Director Fury, to find out.

So, imagine her surprise when Clint showed up to her apartment with take-out Chinese and a bottle of cheap whiskey, sat down on her brand-new sofa and started the interrogation.

“So, Loki, huh?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “What about him? He died on Svartalfheim trying to save Thor’s life.”

Clint smiled and nodded. “Except that he didn’t though.”

Natasha smiled back. “Oh, but he did.”

And it wasn’t a lie. Loki had died. And Natasha knew that when Clint looked into her eyes, he knew without a doubt she was telling the truth. He shifted, looked around the room.

Loki’s fur was draped over the back of the sofa. A small stack of books sat on a roughly hewn, wooden coffee table and the small, faux fireplace that had once adorned her wall was now crackling away, infusing the room with a warm glow. The overall effect was startlingly different from the lifeless space it had been.

“Have you been doing some redecorating?” Clint asked, and crossed one leg over the other.

Natasha met Clint’s gaze in earnest. “Do you like it? I was kind of tired of the stark, white walls and cookie cutter Ikea furniture. I’ve been spending some of this cash S.H.I.E.L.D shells out to make this place a little homier for once.”

Clint winced and looked down at his hands. 

Natasha pressed a smug smile between her lips, leaned back into the sofa. Yeah, she’d pressed Clint’s sympathy button just a little. Poor Natasha, never settling down, always moving. Not like him. Clint had a family, kids, even. And she loved them all. Even Laura. She didn’t begrudge Clint that little slice of heaven.

_But didn’t Natasha deserve a home too?_

Yeah, she played dirty pool. Clint had come for Loki, and she wasn’t ready to give him up. She wasn’t done with him yet.

Clint tried a different tactic.

“So, do you have any more intel on the lead your chasing?”

She shook her head. “Just a lot of dead ends. You don’t have to worry. If anything comes up, you’ll be the first to know what I know.”

Clint sighed. “Listen, Nat, we’ve been friends...for a long time. I know you’re telling me the truth. At the same time, I know something’s up. But you have good instincts and I have to trust that you’ve got my back no matter how this goes down.”

His mouth twists into a sneer and she can see he’s debating something, choosing his words.

He went with, “Just be careful.”

Natasha smiled, patted her friend’s knee. “You know me. I’m always careful.”

Later, as they stood together in the kitchen, drying plates, she bumped her hip against his. “So, what made you think Loki was involved?” she asked, carefully schooling her features into a teasing grin.

Clint was serious again, frowning down at the plate, rubbing a towel across the surface that was clearly already dry. “He was in my head, Nat. Sometimes I think I can still hear...something calling out to me. And I know Thor said he doesn’t believe Loki was in control of himself, that he was just as mind fucked as me. And, I don’t know if I think about it, it makes sense.”

Clint finally put the dish in the cabinet and sat down at the small, two-person kitchen table that was crammed into the end of her little galley kitchen. “When I was...under the influence...I heard something, something that didn’t sound at all like Loki. It wasn’t a voice so much as a... presence?”

Natasha hopped up onto the counter, perched on the edge and encouraged him to continue with a nod.

“Lately, I feel like my nightmares are getting worse. I hear a voice and it feels, I don’t know, wrong? Kinda like that presence except, now it’s speaking.”

Natasha frowned. “What’s it saying?” she asked.

Clint paused, shook his head a little and then met her gaze.

“It wants to be found.”

When Clint left, Natasha settled into the sofa with a glass of Loki’s wine. She pulled the fur down to cover her feet and considered what Clint had said.

But the things he’d said, the voice, wanting to be found. It couldn’t be Loki. Even Clint didn’t believe that not really.

_What then?_

Natasha fished Loki’s stone from her shirt and looked at it. It was beautiful, mossy green with little flecks of gold and striations of black. She hadn’t used it for its intended purpose yet. Loki showed up when it was convenient for him to leave without attracting too much attention.

But she thought maybe Loki should know what Clint had said. She chewed her lip in contemplation.

_Are you thinking of summoning Loki to tell him about Clint’s nightmares or for other purposes?_

That was a very good question.

She sipped her wine, let the stone fall back between her breasts, the cool weight stirring memories of his touch. 

She sighed and decided to let it go for now. It was time she put a little distance between them. It had been fun to indulge a little bit, but it was time to put her big girl panties on.

After all, it was just sex. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Your Majesty,” someone said, drawing Loki out of his own wayward thoughts and back to the matter at hand. “What is your verdict?”

Loki, clad in Odin aspect, glanced at the line of people that stretched through the doors of the throne room and then at the man who stood before him. Trade disputes, petty arguments, the occasional theft, Odin was charged with hearing the claims of his people and deciding their fate. Loki had never been more bored.

He’d wanted this, waged war for this. Now he wanted nothing more than to summon Thor and demand that he take his place on the throne. But his Mother had been quite clear. Thor had other things to do and this is where Loki belonged.

Loki sighed, rearranged his robes while his audience waited expectantly.

Since Loki had taken the throne, the man before him had been charged with brawling, theft, and public drunkenness. He was back again for all three. 

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

Well, his eye. 

The man had been sentenced to spend several nights in the dungeon the first time, a couple more the next. Loki searched his memory for what Odin may have done in this situation.

_Likely banish him to another realm. Or maybe banishment was just reserved for his sons._

The memory of his mother's words came back to him.

_“You must let go of the demons of your past, Loki. You must find a way to forgive.”_

“Twice you have been brought before me. Twice I have shown you mercy. Now here you are again.” Loki stood up. Grasping Gungnir, he descended the dais to stand before the man.

The man was broad and solid, shorter than Thor but surely just as strong. He stood at attention, head bowed reverently but showing no signs of fear.

“Have you learned nothing?” Odin's voice boomed, reverberated through the hall.

The man didn’t flinch, but he grinned almost to himself and said, “I learned not trust to Old Hennrick when he says he’ll be the lookout.” 

“Silence!”

Loki suppressed a smile.

_The man has a spine._

His grin disappeared. Sweat trickled down the man's bald head, drawing Loki’s attention to the parallel lines tattooed on the man’s shaven head. But he did not cower. Loki stood motionless, glared at the man as he considered his options.

He danced on the perilous edge of recognition in the castle. Save Heimdall, no one knew of his deception or the dire warning that perpetuated it. But he had grown up beside the Warriors Three, Sif, even the maids and Oleg in the kitchens had known him since a boy. Although he was certain no one had found fault in his role as the All-Father, he didn’t want to press his luck. He needed a minion, someone who would not ask questions or investigate the odd request as anything but the whim of his king. He needed someone who's morals were slightly less...rigid. Someone he could trust to keep him informed while he traveled.

He tapped Gungnir on the floor once and spoke loud enough for all those ambled to hear. 

“Since you are so keen to take things that do not belong to you, you may atone for your crimes by giving back. You will give half your possessions to those who you wronged and pay the remainder of your debt in service to your king.”

“It would be an honor, Your Majesty,” the man said meeting Loki’s eyes for the first time.

“What is your name, boy?” Loki asked disdainfully, speaking softly now.

“Skurge, Your Majesty,” he said with a little bow.

Loki raised an eyebrow. The name was familiar. Skurge had fought alongside Thor in the war against the storm giants. The warriors had bestowed upon him the title Executioner, such was his thirst for blood. Loki allowed his grin to show on Odin’s face.

“Guards, take our guest to the dungeons for the night and bring him to me in the morning. I will have made arrangements for the manner in which he may carry out his sentence by then.

Loki watched them leave and turned to the assembly. He tapped Gungnir twice.

“That’s all for today. We will resume next week.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Alone in Odin’s chambers, clad in his own skin, Loki sank into the old man’s leather chair and propped his feet up by the fire. How often had he and Thor sat at Odin’s feet, listening to tales of his adventures, the little bread crumbs of wisdom and empty promises? He sighed, mind turning away from the painful memories. He turned instead to Natasha.

It was unsurprising. Natasha Romanoff had aroused in him an incessant need he could not completely explain. But he had no desire to question her motives or the time she devoted to him. He lapped each drop of her attention like a man on fire. She quenched his thirst with her touch, her laugh and the careful way she always made him feel as though he was welcome. Natasha never turned him away.

Despite that, Natasha had never summoned him.

So, although he wanted nothing more than to go to her, sink into her mattress and the comfort of her embrace, Loki hesitated. She wanted him. Of that he was sure. The way she responded to his touch, his voice, she was not that talented an actress. But he thought perhaps she did not want to want him. 

It had been months since he’d last been to Midgard. Heimdall assured him she was safe, although presently, she was on a mission. However, Loki was certain that Natasha would not have summoned him, even if she had been at home. And that thought alone had kept him away.

Loki summoned a cup of tea, sipped carefully and sighed at the comforting warmth spreading across his chest. He watched the flames dance in the hearth. The king’s counsel would soon seek his audience. And there were a million other things to do before he could retire for the evening. But he would do what was required of him. For the sake of Asgard, his home, despite what he may have said out of anger, he would do his duty.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the dead of the night, a sharp buzz woke him. On his feet in an instant, Loki strode to the door before he realized that the alarm was not in the castle, it was from the stone around his neck.

Frozen, he watched the stone glow green for a moment before bursting into action. With the wave of his hand he was dressed in armor, a dagger drawn. With the other, he grasped the stone and spoke a few words. In the blink of an eye he squinted against the Midgardian sun, surrounded by chaos.

Vehicles were flipped on their backs. The sound of gunfire and screaming humans echoed down the street. The stone around his neck tugged forward, tracking his wayward widow.

He found her huddled against a vehicle, face ashen. He stalked toward her, heart pounding, praying to any deity who might lend an ear that she was okay.

“Loki,” she gasped. And that’s when he noticed her hands, always so elegant and gentle, pressed to her abdomen. Her life’s blood gurgled between her pale fingers to pool on the pavement. 

_No. no. Too much. Too soon. She cannot..._

Loki fell to his knees beside her, grasped her face. She couldn’t hold his gaze.

“How could you be so reckless, darling girl,” he breathed.

Loki removed her hands, suppressed a howl of terror when the flow surged hot over his shaking fingers. He had precious seconds. Steeling his resolve, Loki opened her pants, tugged down the material so he could see what he was working with.

Natasha leaned into him as he pressed his hands to her wound. He reached out with his seidr, infused the flesh he now knew like the back of his hand. Achingly slow, he pulled the bullet from her body. It had hit any vital organs. He knitted the tiny capillaries and veins, slowed the flow of blood until finally, she was out of immediate danger.

He heaved a breath, kissed her forehead reverently and summoned a cloth to wipe her skin. The skin was bruised but the wound was closed.

_Another scar in the constellations on her flesh._

“I must get you out of here,” Loki said softly.

But she shook her head. “Cap. I can’t leave Cap.”

Loki frowned and kissed her forehead again. “They do not deserve you,” he growled and moved her so that she could rest back against the wheel.

In a shimmer of greenish gold, he stood, now clad in Natasha’s aspect. He took the gun at her side and turned to the action on the street. Captain America stood dumbfounded in the middle of the road, staring at another man with what looked to be a metal arm. The second man raised his gun and took aim at the Captain as Loki launched the explosive from Natasha’s gun.

Satisfied with his intervention, Loki leaned against the vehicle and heaved a breath before offering the Captain a nod. When he turned around, Loki returned to Natasha’s side.

He smiled when she met his gaze, pushed her hair from her face. “The Captain is safe.”

She breathed out, rested her forehead against his and relaxed into his body for a moment before she stiffened. She touched his face, thumb tracing the line of cheekbone.

“Loki, you have to go. You can’t be here when Steve comes back,” she said softly, her voice calm and resolute.

“Natasha - “

“Thank you. Thank you for coming when I called. I wouldn’t… But no. You have to go.”

He hesitated. He knew she was right. But all he wanted to do was take her away from whatever she had gotten herself into. He wanted to lay her out of his bed, heal every cut and bruise and then spend as much time as he needed reassuring himself that she was safe.

_Alive._

“Come with me,” he said. “Let me,”

But she shook her head, eyes pleading his understanding. 

“I can’t. I can’t bail on this, on Steve. Not right now.”

She pressed her lips to his in a brief but insistent kiss. She sucked his lip and looked into his eyes.

_Is that concern? For him?_

“Loki, please. You can’t let them find you here.”

He pressed the sensation of her lips between his own, took her face between his hands and kissed her softly.

“Promise me you will summon me as soon as it is safe.”

She smiled, nodded. “I promise.”

He pressed a hand to her abdomen, searching again for anything he may have missed. But no, she would be in pain, but she was whole. 

“Were you not so loyal, I could heal you…save you from this pain…make you feel –“ He stopped when the Captain called her name and she stiffened.

“You saved my life, Loki. Please,” she whispered.

And with a final kiss, he touched the stone around his neck and returned to Asgard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! I appreciate all of your kudos and comments. And can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter.
> 
> I recently moved into a new home on Dreamwidth. So if you'd like to follow me there to hear about updates and find out what I'm currently reading and reccing, subscribe to my page [Here at Dreamwidth ](https://we-dreamerz.dreamwidth.org/)


	5. No Easy Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha returns home after Sokovia
> 
> Inspired by: Wherever I Go by One Republic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, much love to my beta goddesses: LokiismyfavouriteAvenger & Dawn. <3

[](https://imgur.com/pivrC2Y)

 

Natasha Romanoff was not in the habit of making promises. She knew better than anyone how truly difficult it was to fulfill them. But she's made a promise to Loki. 

She’d promised to summon him as soon as it was safe. The trouble was, it just hadn’t been safe. From the moment she’d forced him to leave her there in the street it had been a continuous stream of insanity. And maybe, of all the people she could have called who would have understood what she was going through, Loki was probably on the top of that list. But she couldn’t summon him. He had responsibilities of his own, a kingdom to run. She couldn't indulge herself and risk his life for the sake of a few hours of comfort. No matter how much she may have wanted to.

The elevator doors in front of Natasha slid open to reveal a long, nondescript hallway. She shouldered her bag and exited the elevator quickly, anxious. It had been a very long time since she’d been home.

She paused at her door, key slotted but still. She didn’t really know what to expect, dead plants, rotten food in the refrigerator. Her bills were paid, automatically debited from an account that was fed from another account and so on, several layers deep.

Natasha sighed. Guilt and regret tugged her mind in several directions. Loki. Bruce. She'd shared a kiss with Bruce, a small moment of what if. And then he’d turned green and left the planet.

But did she even want Bruce? 

For a moment, in the aftermath of the chaos of Sokovia, when Bruce wanted to run, she thought maybe she could too, disconnect from the weight of what had happened. In the end she realized she couldn’t be that person. In the long run, that wasn’t what she needed. 

_Why is everything so fucking complicated?_

Kissing Bruce had been like kissing a live grenade with her finger in the pin. He looked at her as though her mere presence could cause his death grip on self-control to be blown all to hell. Deep down, she terrified him, or at least the idea of them together. She loved Bruce. She always would. And when he finally made his way back to Earth, she was going to punch him in the dick for taking off like that. But she wasn't in love with him. 

The fact of the matter was, even as she’d kissed Bruce, she’d been thinking of Loki. Loki kissed her like all the answers to the universe could be found in her embrace. He made her feel cherished, important, more than just the sum of her training, a cog in the mission, or a responsibility. And he was surprisingly fun.

She'd made him a promise. But it has been so long since she’d made that promise. Would he even want to hear from her at this point? Natasha turned the key, opened the door and was immediately certain he did.

Her apartment was exactly as she’d left it except...more. Her plants had flourished. In fact, she thought maybe they’d multiplied. Instead of stale air and dust, it looked immaculate and smelled...fresh. It smelled like Loki. Her refrigerator was stocked with food and several bottles of Loki’s wine. And her new fireplace roared with a bone satisfying warmth.

Natasha slumped onto her sofa, dropped her bag and heaved a sigh. On the coffee table was a tray laden with snacks, some cheese, crackers, nuts, and grapes. She picked up the glass of wine that accompanied it, breathed it in and smiled. Loki's vintage. She closed her eyes and took a drink, letting the warmth swirl through her chest and seep down her thighs. She leaned back and breathed deep, reveling in the stillness.

She eyed the plate and raised an eyebrow, inspiration striking. Seven minutes later she was breast deep in a tub full of bubbles with a full bottle of wine, and her snack on a small table close by. Soft music played in the background and she allowed her mind to slip off the track for the first time in over a year.

~~~~~~~~~~

Cocooned in the fluffiest robe she could find, Natasha curled up on her sofa and toyed with the pendant at her neck. She smiled to herself as she considered Loki and their strange relationship. He’d saved her life. He'd been ready to throw her over his shoulder and take her to Asgard to get her out of harm’s way. He’d trusted her enough to leave her there when she’d insisted, and then he’d been patient while she dealt with the insanity that followed. Loki had, completely on his own, made sure she had a quiet, welcome homecoming, without insisting that he be here to help her enjoy it. Loki always gave her what she needed. She thought maybe it was time she returned the favor.

“Loki,” Natasha said, cupping the pendant in her right hand, imagining his face in her mind, those haunting eyes, so many shades of green and blue, sharp cheekbones and sinful mouth.

“Natasha,” Loki said.

She opened her eyes to find him standing there in her living room, dressed casually in a pair of black leather pants, boots and linen shirt, so beautiful. His expression was warm but guarded. His gaze skimmed her body, taking in her wet hair and bare toes sticking out from under the hem of her robe.

“Welcome home,” he said with a tight smile.

“Thank you,” she said and slid one bare leg into view. She watched his eyes track the movement and return to meet her gaze.

She expected him to come to her, lounge with her, slide his wicked hands along her thighs. Instead, he remained standing, hands clasped behind his back. He didn't look angry. But for the first time she'd known him, she felt a distance between them.

“Thor stopped to consult with Odin before continuing on his journey,” Loki explained. “Asgard is grateful to you and your compatriots for seeing to Ultron's destruction. He would surely have turned his eye toward the other realms should you have failed.”

Natasha frowned. He sounded so formal, like an advisor to a queen, providing an update with placating words. She didn't like it. But she knew what was wrong. How could she not? She'd failed him.

“You're angry with me.”

He turned away as though realizing his mask had slipped. He was angry, that was clear. But even more than that, she could see lines of worry and hurt. Natasha wasn't going to make excuses or explain how very much she didn't want him involved in what they’d been doing. He would have been a complication. If anyone had recognized him, things would have gone from horrible to catastrophic in an instant. But at the same time, she didn't want him to hurt. She didn't want him to worry about her.

“I'm sorry,” she said softly. And she meant it.

His head snapped toward her, gaze narrowed. She hid nothing in her expression, allowed the probing fingers of his magic curl around her words and sus out deception. There was none. She was sorry. Though maybe not for the exact reasons he might expect. 

Finding her truth, Loki heaved a sigh.

“May I join you?” he asked finally.

“Please,” she said softly.

Loki’s eyes flashed. He hasn't missed the undercurrent of wanting in her tone.

God, she wanted him - his body, the way he made her laugh, challenged her, the steady reassurance of his embrace. She wanted everything he was willing to give her for as long as they could steal the time to take it.

_An hour? A week?_

She wanted to give him everything in return.

He came to her. She parted her legs to provide him space and he crawled between them, hovering above her, gaze searching her own.

“You put yourself in harm's way,” Loki said, voice low and rumbling, sharpened with a dangerous edge. She shivered, catching the way his lip quirked when he felt her reaction. 

“Stark tinkered with magic he did not understand. He endangered all of humanity.” Loki stroked his palm up her calf, fingers grazing the sensitive skin behind her knee before caressing her thigh. “Yet you did not call for me,” his voice broke but he didn't look away. “I could have helped you. Instead, you refused to summon me. You made a promise to me, Darling Girl. A promise you did not fulfill.”

_When was the last time someone worried about me like this? Took care of me like this? Never?_

Natasha reached for his face with both hands, palms skimming the angular plains of his cheeks. She ran her thumb across his lips, and he kissed it, flicked his tongue across its tip.

“Loki,” she whispered, as he bent to brush his lips along her jaw.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Say my name, Natasha. So that you might remember it in the future.” Loki's fingers trailed to the apex of her thighs; his touch so soft. He teased her bare flesh open and moaned when he found her already wet.

“Loki,” she answered breath hitching with need when he found her clit and circled slowly, barely touching her.

“Say it louder, pet and I will give you what you desire,” he purred. “Say it so that you might never forget it.”

Natasha moaned as he teased her entrance. She bucked her hips, but he denied her. With a wicked chuckle, he drew his hand away. She whined and then gasped when she felt the velvet head of his cock at her entrance, slipping between her folds, rubbing against her clit.

“Loki,” she whined, fingers tangling in his hair. “Please.”

He pumped his hips once and the length of his cock stroked her clit. She gasped and shuddered.

“Louder, Love.” Another stroke, two.

“Loki!” She called out, voice breaking on a moan when he filled her in one thrust 

“Again,” Loki growled. She could feel the throbbing heat of him and knew he was holding back.

“Loki! Please!” 

With a feral grunt, Loki grasped her ass and rocked into her with quick, deep thrusts. She met each one, reveling in the wet slap of flesh on flesh, the sharp bite of his fingernails.

He bent to touch his forehead to hers, one hand now behind her neck.

Loki reached between them, nimble fingers easily finding the center of her pleasure.

“Come for me,” he growled. “And say my name.”

All the tension, the need, the pain of the last several months came pouring out of her in a primal sob. Loki's stroked her through each shuddering wave before succumbing to his own release. He took her deep and hard, face pressed into her neck as he cried her name. Natasha clung to him, wrapped her legs and around him. He collapsed, heavy on her chest but she refused to let him go. 

“Don't go,” she whispered.

“Never,” he answered.

~~~~~~~~~

Natasha woke sometime later to find herself in an unfamiliar place, wrapped up in Loki's arms.

She looked around the room and knew that they were no longer in her apartment. In the dark, she could make out a few details, several large bookshelves, a desk. They were enveloped in an enormous four post bed, draped with heavy fabric. Through the window, she could see the tops of buildings that looked absolutely nothing like anything she’d ever seen on Earth.

She turned in Loki’s arms, rubbed her face against his chest.

He hummed, twined his fingers through her hair.

“I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto,” Natasha murmured.

“I don't believe we were ever in Kansas, Darling,” Loki said, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. His hand smoothed up her body to caress her breast, fingers plucking her nipple, teasing it to pebble between his fingers.

Natasha chuckled and closed her eyes when he bent to suck her nipple.

“So, where exactly did you take me?”

“Home,” Loki said, the tone of his voice surprisingly reverent and Natasha couldn’t tell if that was because he’d taken her to Asgard or because he was making his way down her body, pressing kisses here and there. He kissed each of her hip bones, lingered over the scar on her belly that he himself had patched. He paid homage to her pain with a tender kiss before moving between her thighs.

She opened for him, moaned when he kissed her mound.

“I’ve dreamt of nothing but having you in my bed from the moment I last saw you,” he said, breath a warm tease on her skin. “I imagined you spreading these sumptuous thighs for me, so I might feast upon your tender flesh,” Loki said. He gestured and a soft glow illuminated the room. “I want to see you, watch you as you come undone.”

Natasha spared the room a little glance, noting the rack of ink bottles on his desk, the sheer number of books he’d crammed onto the shelves. But she was truly transfixed by the sight of Loki bent to her pussy, grazing her skin with his cheek, before slowly licking up her slit with the flat of his tongue.

_Fuck, he knows how to eat a pussy._

He parted her folds with the tip of his tongue as she rocked her hips to rub herself against his face. He moaned, slipped his hands under her ass, thumbs spreading her apart.

“Fuck...yes,” she rasped, moving against him. He flicked his tongue against her clit, allowing her to set the pace. “Put your fingers inside me,” she gasped and then moaned when Loki filled her. She fucked herself down on his fingers, first one and then two, chasing her pleasure right over the edge. Then, before she’d even stopped gasping, Natasha had Loki on his back. She knelt between his thighs and grasped his swollen shaft.

“Yes,” Loki hissed and waved his hand. As she bent to take him in her mouth, she felt warm hands on her hips from behind.

She moaned as Loki’s double rubbed his cock along her slick folds and thrust inside her, pushing her down on Loki’s cock. She swallowed him, eyes prickling with tears as Loki fucked her from both ends, hips thrusting, long fingers in her hair. Still quivering from her last orgasm, she came again, moaning around Loki’s cock, taking him with her. She slurped obscenely at his shaft, licking up every drop as Loki’s double slowly withdrew.

Loki reached for her, dragged her up his body until she was nestled into his chest, trying to catch her breath. He ran his hands through her hair and down her back to fondle her ass.

She chuckled and kissed him, nibbled a nipple until he rolled them on their side.

“I cannot get enough of you,” Loki whispered, kissing her nose her lips. “I want you here, in my bed, at my side in all things,” he growled low and possessive.

Natasha’s chest felt tight as she stroked his face.

“And what if I can’t give that to you?” she asked. “I’m not an easy woman to love, Loki. It’s why I don’t have relationships. Because I disappear, a lot. I’m not the kind of woman who’s there to tuck you into bed every night.” 

Loki chuckled, pressed his forehead to Natasha’s. “I do not want an easy love,” he whispered. “I want you and all the uncertainty that brings. I will fight at your side; I will rip through the fabric of the universe to see you safe. I am chaos, Darling Girl. I walk in madness, in magic. I need only for you to trust me.”

Natasha smiled through the sting of tears.

“With my life,” she said.

Loki nodded, drew her closer.

“Then we will find our way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I treasure every kudos and comment.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm telling this story through touchpoints, highlighted and inspired by songs. So if you have Loki/Natasha songs that you'd like to share, please do. You never know what it might spark.


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